


My Confidence Is Wearing Off

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Beelzebub/Michael is only hinted at, F/F, Other, Uriel POV - Freeform, Uriel is soft for Dagon, everyone loves Dagon's teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 07:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20373259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Uriel?” The demon asked. “That’s your name, right? Uriel?”“Why?” Uriel looked at her suspiciously.“No reason. I’m Dagon, Lord of the Files.”





	My Confidence Is Wearing Off

“Why are we the ones coming down here?” Uriel said as she and Michael made their way down to the basement. 

“You didn’t have to come.”

“You shouldn’t be coming down here by yourself all the time, either.” Uriel matched her pace, wondering at the hurry Michael was in. Uriel was in a hurry to be done with the entire thing.

“I’m only delivering some documents.”

“They should upgrade to email,” Uriel pointed out. Honestly, the whole system needed an upgrade.

Michael stopped in her tracks, and Uriel stopped as well.

“Look,” Michael said. “I know you don’t like it. Of course you don’t, you’re an _angel_.”

“Yeah,” Uriel agreed. “So are you.”

“Well, it’s only a job,” Michael continued. “And you can wait outside while I meet with Beelzebub.”

“Consorting with the other side,” Uriel mumbled. She didn’t want to poke at Michael, exactly, but they weren’t meant to get too close to Hell. Walking in through the front doors to run an errand was pushing it.

“It’s _work_. Do you think I volunteered for this?”

Uriel didn’t say anything to that. What could she say? She’d heard rumors, but nothing more. And she trusted Michael, she did. At least, she told herself she did.

“I’ve got your back,” Uriel said, instead. “Just don’t take too long, yeah?”

Michael was led to the Prince when they arrived, and Uriel, as agreed, waited outside, arms crossed against her chest.

“Would you like to sit down?” A demon with sharp teeth asked. “I can have someone get you a chair.”

“No.” Uriel shook her head. “Thank you.”

The demon nodded to herself. She had long hair, almost like Michael’s, but instead she wore it in a long ponytail that trailed down her back. Her face was covered with glistening scales, and in her arms was a stack of folders that went nearly up to her chin.

“Uriel?” The demon asked. “That’s your name, right? Uriel?”

“Why?” Uriel looked at her suspiciously.

“No reason. I’m Dagon, Lord of the Files.”

“Master of Torments?” Uriel continued for her.

“You’ve heard of me?” Dagon looked shocked, but also pleased.

“From Michael,” Uriel admitted.

“Right! Michael. She usually comes alone. I’ve never seen you before.”

“That’s on purpose.”

Dagon blinked. “Would you like me to show you around?”

“No.”

“Would you like--”

“Look, are you part of some sort of welcoming committee?”

“Well, no.”

“Then go on your way. I’m staying right here.”

Dagon turned to go, muttering something about angels thinking they were better than them. Uriel couldn’t help but think they were awfully friendly for a demon. She looked at the ground and spotted a folder that must have dropped from Dagon’s pile.

_Not my problem_, Uriel thought, resisting the urge to pick it up.

She resisted for a quarter of an hour. It was not a personal best. But she was curious, and Michael was taking bloody forever.

She scooped up the folder and went in the direction Dagon had gone.

Dagon was sitting at a filthy looking desk, surrounded by even more stacks of folders. The whole set-up looked close to collapse. What did they ever need a war for? They could bury Hell in paper.

“You dropped this,” Uriel said, walking up and holding out the folder.

“I was looking for that,” Dagon said, offering her a smile that was all sharp, shiny teeth. Despite everything, it seemed open and genuine. She took the folder from Uriel’s outstretched hand.

“Well,” Uriel said awkwardly. “That’s all.”

“Thank you!” Dagon called after her. Awfully polite for a demon, too.

Uriel tried not to smile as she walked away. She tried, but it wasn’t a day for personal bests, and Dagon couldn’t see her do it anyway.


End file.
